Victoria plopped back down at the foot of her bed.  The room was a mess. Loose photographs lay scattered on the floor along with a deck of cards, a red feather boa, several yearbooks, a handful of cats-eye marbles and an army of beannie babies.  Vic was still in her blue striped pajamas, fuzzy blue slippers and night robe.  Her hair had been haphazardly placed in a bun held together by two chopsticks.  She sat grinning at him.

Seth proceeded to enter the room.  He bent down and picked up a photograph. It was of a group of young girls, perhaps in their early teens, all smiling. He recognized one of them to be his Otaku.  It was Victoria alright, but there was something different about her, about the way she looked.  Yes, she was older, but her features had not changed much.  He lowered the photo a few centemeters from his gaze, enough to view both the present and the past. Instantaneously he caught the flaw.  The aura of innocence had gone from her, replaced by the tortures of wisdom.

But she looked happier now among friends and familiar surroundings.  He let the photograph fall to the carpet.

"So what is all of this?"

Vic gathered some of the marbles within arm length into her palm. "Oh, just reminiscing, I guess.  I was looking for a necklace of mine from camp junior year and stumbled upon all of this."

"I just wanted to tell ya that I'm going out for a while."  Seth said quickly as he made his way back towards the door.

She looked at him with puzzled eyes. "Why are you telling me?"

Seth shrugged.  "Don't know, thought I would."

"Ok, whatever.  Hey, get some milk and bread while your at it."

"Sure thing."

"Have fun."  Vic returned to her rummaging.

"I doubt that," Seth replied under breath.

"Nanii?"

"Nothing."  The Guardian paused and glances back at her over his shoulder before shutting the door.

Otaku and Guardian were now living in a large loft in the heart of Downtown Los Angeles. Seth stepped out into the Southern California sun.  No problem. He had stopped for a little Mexican on the way back from The Darkroom. He checked for his keys, they jingled in his pant pocket - Got 'em. - and proceeded into the garage.  Vic had moved out of the Compound.  After a while, one can take only so much of  Carson's cooking.  Seth shuddered upon remembering Curry Night.  It was days and several breath mint packs before he got the taste out of his mouth.

When Vic chose to go out on her own, he made up his mind to come with her. Besides, there was no way he could watch her 24-7 from another location. Even though the Nosferatu offered to lend a hand.

It had been several hours before he found the place.  Damn jackasses should have drawn a map.  Fuck the damn code thing!, he thought to himself as he got out of the car and adjusted his sunglasses.  The building towered above him.  So, it here all along, eh?  Kuso, that was smart.  The car door slammed.

He was never much into playing Mission Impossible.  Well, except for the chicks, the chicks were great.  But nevermind that, they were for later.  He punched a series of numbers into the elevator pad and the steel coffin speedily raced to the sub level indicated by the code.  The doors opened and he stepped into a corridor.  There were no other entrances or exits, no windows, only air vents.  He was deep underground, in one of their labyrinths' passage ways.  At the end of the corridor was a door.

The hentai sighed to himself and took a relaxed breath. He stepped into a room with three solid, cold stone walls.  On the fourth wall was one of those two way mirrors. He grinned widely at his reflection. He now had the worse case of bed-head, his silk shirt was undone and untucked, the expression on his face made him appear intoxicated.

"Ohayo!"  He beamed, his voice echoing. "Nanii?  Where is everybody? I thought there was party goin' on up in here.  Where are the babes?"  He walked around the room, then stopped directly in front of the mirror, still grinning.  He pressed his face up against it and began pounding it with his fist.

"That's enough! " The voice boomed loudly from the single speaker.

"Took ya long enough, man!"

"You know why you were called here."

"Yeah, yeah.  Get on with it already.  It isn't like there's much to tell."

"Oh, but there is so much you can tell us, Seth."

"Well--I ain't sayin' nothin' til ya ask the right questions."

"What is the status with your Otaku?"

"She's sitting at home looking like crap." He smiled.

"You hide yourself well, Seth. You have been doing very well for yourself since we last looked in on you.  Ventru Prince of Los Angeles, quite a title.  Quite undeserving of a street rat, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well what's it to ya?"

"Where is Nyx?"

"She's dead, sayonara, hasta la-bye-bye.  Vic fucked her off a while back, and I say good riddance."

"Now you would not be lying to us, Seth?"

"Got no reason to."

"But you do, don't you?" The speaker paused a moment and began again. "We will know sooner or later.  You don't want us to arrive at the answers on our own. "

"Ha! Ya got nothin' on me, bakas."

"Don't we?"

"Nope. Nada mas, amigos."

The sound of machines tinkering from beyond the walls echoing into the room. Suddenly a photo appeared projected onto the mirror.

Seth staggered back up against the wall, his eyes laden with terror.  His mouth gaped open.

"Don't we, Seth?"  The voice asked again mockingly.

TBCŠŠŠŠŠ.